


Intelligence - One Shots

by Floopdeedoopdee



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Jay Halstead whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 18:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floopdeedoopdee/pseuds/Floopdeedoopdee
Summary: A series of One Shots focusing on Jay and one other member of Intelligence, although I am sure other members will make an appearance. Jay whump is really the focus here, I mean, come on who are we kidding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything in regards to Chicago PD, except my love for the show and it's characters. 
> 
> There will be swearing and violence - not super graphic though.
> 
> Okiloveyoubyebye

BURGESS POV 

 

I’m on my way back from the Ivory Tower when I get a hit on the car we think was involved in Jay’s kidnapping. I call it in to Voight and follow at a safe distance, updating Voight as I go. We eventually end up in the warehouse district. They get out of the car and it’s the Marcus brothers. 

“Voight it’s them.” 

Voight answers, “Hold Burgess.” 

I sigh in frustration and don’t realize my com is open. 

Voight one ups my frustration, “I said…HOLD Burgess.” 

“Copy that Sarge.” 

Carl Marcus walks over and opens the only door I can see into the warehouse then goes back to the car to help the younger brother, Pete, with his heavy burden. It’s Jay. They drag him out of the car like a sack of potatoes and let him fall to the gravel. He’s unconscious. 

“Sarge, they have Jay. He’s unconscious but that’a all I can see.” 

“Copy that.” 

“Voight, VOIGHT! How far out are you?” 

“15 minutes. I’ll put out a city wide. The 61st will get there before us. Wait for them to go in. I repeat, Burgess, wait for them to go in.” 

“Copy.” 

A few seconds later I hear the citywide and breathe a small sigh of relief. Then, not 10 seconds later, the citywide is cancelled. What the Fuck. 

“Voight, they canceled the city wide. What’s going on?” 

“HOLD.” 

Ughhhhhh!

 

VOIGHT POV

The address Kim gave was well outside of the district. I call in a citywide for help but knew it wouldn’t be coming when, moments later, it’s canceled. We’re on our own and I know why. Denny. That motherfucker would risk Halstead’s life for his vendetta against me. That was the mistake that would end all this shit between us. Denny just dug himself a hole. No one fucks with my team and gets away with it. If Denny wants to come after me fine. Let the chips fall where they may. Let the lowest motherfucker win. But you don’t mess with one of my detectives and get away with it. There’s a low below the low they know and I will go there for Halstead. Denny will pay whether Jay comes out of this or not.

 

BURGESS POV

I’m “kind of” holding but not really. I had reluctantly sat in the car waiting for Voight’s orders until the brothers grabbed Jay under the arms and dragged his unconscious body into the warehouse and shut the door. That’s when I stopped “holding” and decided that doing some recon would be okay. I was outside the door where they disappeared with Jay and when I tried it, it was unlocked. Yay! Shit. This is a new situation for me and now I had a definite choice, wait for backup or with an unlocked door I could go in for Jay - a no brainer in my opinion but I wasn’t going in blind. 

I slide over to the one window on this side of the building and look in through the lower left corner. I had a pretty good view of 90% of the room since it was a wide open warehouse, with Jay laying unconscious in the middle of it. Shit. God, Jay… The problem with being able to see 90% of the room was, no cover, anywhere… and fuck, where had the Marcus brothers gone - they just disappeared. I ducked down, my heart racing even more than it was a second ago. I check my surroundings. They hadn’t come out the door they’d gone in. I scanned the area were they parked - they weren’t behind me. When I look through the window again they are there, walking towards Jay. One carrying rope, the other a chair. They’re arguing about something.

“Voight, eta,” I whisper. 

“10 minutes Kim, hold.”

“Sir, with all do respect…”

“Burgess I said hold. Now, what do ya got?”

I quietly update him as I continue to watch the brothers throw Jay into the chair and tie him to it. 

“Halstead is unconscious but alive, don’t know the extent of his injuries except for definite head wound. Both Marcus brothers in view. I’m located south side of the building near standard entrance that is unlocked. There are no visible windows in my view of the north side of the warehouse or northeast side. There is a 20 ft rolling railroad door on the north side of the building that is off its tracks and looks immovable. There is no cover inside the warehouse that I can see without opening the door they went in.”

“Kim, dammit, I said hold.”

“I’m holding, I’m holding. Just get here.” 

“Less than 10 minutes out. Coming in silent.”

“Copy that.”

The Marcus brothers had their backs to her and were focused on Jay. They were saying something to him that I couldn’t hear. It must have pissed them off because it earned Jay a jab in the ribs and before he could catch his breath a right to the head. Jay’s head flew back and then came back to rest on his chest. 

There was more arguing between the brothers before Carl roughly lifted Jay’s head up by his hair. He screamed in Jay’s face while Jay just smirked at him through the blood running down from the new cut above his eye and his split lip. Impatient, Pete Marcus pushes this brother out of the way and grabs Jay by the throat cutting off his air. I can see Jay gasping and in pain from the grip this guy has on his neck. Suddenly, not liking the response from Jay, to whatever question he asks, he whips out a hunting knife and drives it down through Jay’s thigh. Jay’s head is thrown back in a silent scream. Fuck.

“Voight I’m going in. They stabbed Jay in the leg.”

“We’re there Kim. 3 minutes, Burgess we’re there.”

I quickly and quietly step through the door and make my way silently towards the brothers. Gun drawn. Jay’s head had fallen back to his chest but he lifts it now and I know he must see me coming up behind the brothers. Jay spits at the closest brother, 

“Fuck you, you motherfucker.” Jay turns to the sibling, “Your ugly brother is a motherfucker. How do you stand for that… and are you jealous your mother didn’t choose you?” 

That, earns Jay a couple more body blows and whack to the side of the head with the butt end of the knife. Jay’s distraction tactics are working. A couple of more yards and I’ll be close enough to take them out if I have to, without them having a chance to kill Jay in the process.

“I’m sick of this shit. Just kill him. He’s not going to tell us.” 

Again the knife quickly comes down into Jay’s leg and again Jay throws his head back in agony.

“Freeze! Chicago PD, put your hands where I can see them.” 

One brother makes a move closer to Jay and I pull the trigger and put a bullet through his heart. The last brother grabs Jay by the hair, putting a knife to his throat. 

“Drop your gun or I slit his throat.” 

Jay looks me in the eye and then winks-‘you’ve got this.’ The brother moves the knife against Jay’s throat, drawing a bead of blood. I don’t hesitate. I put a bullet through his brain.  
The momentum of the dead brother’s fall tips the chair over sideways and Jay hits the floor with a grunt. I get down on my hands and knees and look into Jay’s pain filled eyes. 

“Jay, Jay, you with me?”

“Chicago PD!” Voight yells out as the team comes storming into the building, guns drawn. Sealing the perimeter and making their way to us. Erin is requesting an ambulance as she walks over.

“You’re ok. I got you.” I put my hand on Jay’s shoulder, lean over and cut the ropes that tie his hands. I look back into Jay’s face, his eyes are closed. “Jay. Jay. Look at me.” I put my hand on his cheek, “You’re ok. I got you. You’re gunna be ok.”

He grins. “Hey Kiiiim. You did good, girl.” 

I laugh, “Whew, thanks, ya, you too. You sure are good at pissing people off. Nice distraction.” 

He takes a deep breath and then winces his smile, “Yup. Ya know what they say, ‘gotta do what your good at.’” 

Jay’s focus then shifts to Voight, “Nice timing there Sarge.” and then gives me a wink. 

Jay groans and rolls onto his back. Either the look Voight just gave Jay for his smart ass remark can cause pain or the adrenaline has worn off cuz suddenly Jay is in a tremendous amount of pain.  
Voight holsters his gun and kneels on the other side of Jay. With one hand he takes over for me, putting pressure on Jay’s stab wounds and the other, he rests on the top of jays head. 

“Stay with us kid. Stay with us. Ambos coming.” And with that Jay lets himself pass out, knowing he is safe in the hands of his team.

 

*24 hours later*

 

KIM’S POV

Erin and I are each sitting on a side of Jay’s bed, with the rest of the team scattered around the room talking. Jay’s just laying there in his drug induced, partial slumber while Will checks his wounds. Everyone else is aware of this but ignoring it. They continue their stupid, boy conversation, in which Erin, oddly enough, is holding her own; even when she is distracted by her partner and needs to reach out and touch his shoulder, for her own comfort as much as his. I catch her eye across the bed. Her and Jay are more than partners and she knows that I know. I smile at her and she smiles back. Her secret is safe with me.  
   
Will has gotten used to doing these checks on Jay with us in the room - he knows we aren’t leaving until Jay leaves with us. I’m hyper aware of what’s going on around me and ignoring it at the same time. I can’t stop staring at Jay and what Will is going. I’m not being all, stalker, crazy, drooling girl because Jay isn’t wearing a shirt and Will’s pulled the sheet down for the examination. I don’t see Jay like that. He’s like my cool older brother, so yuck. No, I can’t stop staring because he’s here. I saved him. But I almost didn’t. 

I watch as Will palpates Jay’s abdomen and that is the thought that keeps spinning in my head - ‘But I almost didn’t.’ My head spins: Did I go in too late? Could I have gone in earlier? If so when should I have gone in and what damage could have been prevented. I stare and my head spins. You can see the amount of bruising on his chest and stomach so I guess Will is still worried about internal bleeding. Jay said, when he came to, that they had worked him over a bit when they grabbed him outside of Molly’s, hence the 3 cracked ribs.  
   
He’s got 7 stitches above his eye and a split lip that keeps opening up because when he’s awake he won’t stop talking. Which we all agree is pretty entertaining, him being high on pain meds and all. The cut on his neck is “superficial” and didn’t even need stitches, just a band-aid. A Spongebob one at that. I don’t think Jay knows though, since he can’t see it. Will is pretty funny, especially when it comes to his brother. Any opportunity to kid or embarrass Jay he is going to seize upon. Will checks the stitches on Jay’s thigh from the stab wounds. They took him into surgery for that. It wasn’t a major surgery but surgery it was and when I think about it my head just spins more about the should haves and the could haves.

Will’s done checking his brother. The sheet is pulled back up just above Jay’s waist and Adam and Kevin have left to raid the cafeteria on our behalf. The conversation has grown a bit quieter without the two motormouths in the room. Erin is giving Antonio a hard time about something and Hank and Al share a rare laugh about something, probably stupid, that Adam did last night in the cafeteria.  
So I just sit and watch Jay sleep. Stare at his injuries and go over in my head about what I could have done differently. 

When Adam and Kevin come back, they divvy up half the cafeteria between the team. In the feeding frenzy that ensues, a muffin is put next to my hand where I nervously pick at the sheets on Jay’s bed. I’m staring at one of the darker bruises on his chest and don’t notice that he’s awake until he pushes my muffin off the bed and then touches my hand. He looks me in the eye for a moment and then gives my hand a tug. I move closer. He takes his thumb and brushes the tear off my cheek that I hadn’t realized had fallen. 

“Stop it.” He smiles. “Get out of that head of your’s. It’s not a safe place to be without back up.” 

I give him an ‘almost’ smile back. 

“You did good Kim.” 

He wipes another tear as I nod my head and shrug, trying to hold it together. I want to believe him but don’t know if I can. 

“Hey, I’m here aren’t I? You did perfect.” 

I laugh. Now that, I definitely can’t believe but I think I know what he is saying. I think he’s made it possible for me to believe that I did ok. I nod and smile and then frown, 

“You pushed my muffin on the floor.” 

Annnnd, there’s that smirk, “It was a bran muffin.” He grabs the fries out of Adam’s hand and gives them to me. 

“Hey, those are mine.” 

“No, they’re Kim’s. She saved my life.” He grabs the fry that Adam was just about to eat and pops it in his mouth. “You, Ruzek, can have the bran muffin.”


	2. PLATT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Platt with a little Intelligence, some Fire, a wee bit of Will and a whole lotta Jay whump

PLATT

 

Platt, Halstead and Officer Miller from the K-9 unit were sitting in the green room of Windy City Mornings, waiting for their interview segment with the TV show’s host. Platt was there to represent the officers and her duty of running the whole district. Jay was there representing Intelligence. It was a pretty nice, borderline fancy, green room as far as green rooms were concerned. There was fruit and pastries for them to munch on while they waited. Not that any of them could really eat with the nerves coursing through their bodies. I take that back. Platt and Halstead couldn’t eat because they didn’t want to be there but that’s okay, Miller’s eating enough for the three of them. He might be one of those people who eat when nervous or he is just really hungry or he likes the fancy pastries and wants to get his fill of the special treat. 

Miller was excited about going on the show but who invites a K-9 officer and doesn’t let them bring their dog? Jay thought it was about the stupidest thing he had ever heard. But then, this whole situation was about the stupidest thing he’s ever had to partake in. He didn’t want to be there. In fact, when they drew straws, Olinski got the short straw. So why was Jay sitting there? He was sitting there because the pretentious producer found out that he had been a Ranger in Afghanistan and thought that would be a “fantastic angle” for the Intelligence Unit’s representative - Army Ranger turned cop, which in Jay’s opinion just upped the stupidity factor of this whole situation. 

The only thing making this whole situation bearable was watching Platt’s reactions to everything. Disgust would probably be the best word to describe her attitude but even that seemed like an understatement. So Jay kept an eye on Platt. The zingers that normally would have been thrown at Jay were going to Miller. She had been busting him on anything and everything…how much he was eating, his pacing - ’pacing isn’t going to burn the calories you’re eating so why don’t you just sit on the couch and get fat’ - his lack of dog and her thoughts that ‘maybe they’ll have someone dressed up in a dog suit that the host wouldn’t be allergic to.’ Miller actually thought she was serious with that one, he was worried that the “dog” wouldn’t know the commands and would make the K-9 unit look stupid. Jay’s coffee almost came out his nose on that one. So, yes, Platt was entertaining. Her grumbling and commentary, ‘pathetic excuse for entertainment,’ of the live show that was playing out on the green room TV was his saving grace. 

It was when Miller decided to go find the producer to see if there actually WAS going to be a fake dog, that the damn situation went from bad to worse - again an understatement. Platt was sitting in the only comfy chair in the room and Jay decided to finally break down and grab a cup another cup of coffee. He was standing by the table when the automated espresso machine started to hiss. Cheap shit in a fancy room. When the hiss turned into a low whine, he realized that the sound was actually coming from behind the wall. When the noise graduated into an ear piercing screech, Jay and Platt both said “what the hell” at the same time. That was when the explosion came. Jay was lifted off the ground like a puppet on invisible strings and slammed into the column in the middle of the room - followed by the table and then chunks of the wall. He hit the wall hard enough to bust though the drywall and might have still been conscious when the table and debris hit him. But who knows, he wasn’t conscious now.

 

AT THE DISTRICT

Voight slams his phone down and storms out of his office, drawing all eyes to him. “We gotta roll. There was an explosion at the studio where Halstead and Platt are doing that show.” There is a stunned silence as the news is digested and then a flurry of movement as everyone jumps up from their desks and heads for the roll up, in a hail of ‘fuck!’ ‘What the hell!’ and ‘Oh my God’s.’ Everyone but Erin, who is frozen to the spot. Hanks puts a hand gently on her shoulder, “Come on kid. We don’t know anything yet. I’m sure he’s okay.” Still stunned, Erin, grabs her jacket and follows him out of the bullpen.

 

AT THE STUDIO

A minute later, an hour, maybe ten minutes later, the dust had settled a bit and Platt let out a groan that turned quickly into a cough from whatever dust she had inhaled. Getting her bearings she looked around at the rubble that surrounded her. “Miller, Halstead!” She remembered that Miller had left the room, “Halstead! Halstead! Can you hear me? Halstead!” She quickly checked for any damage to herself and was grateful to find that she had escaped with just some bumps and bruises. Then she sought out her detective, worried at what she might find. She stepped over the debris and moved to where Halstead might have ended up from the blast. The first thing she saw of him was his limp, dust covered hand in the rubble next to the support column. She moved carefully around the column and could see Halstead’s legs sticking out from under the rubble and behind a broken table. “Halstead, Halstead, hang in there. I’m gunna get you out of there.” She’s hoping she isn’t talking to a body and just talking to an unconscious Jay when she didn’t get an answer. 

The inner mantra playing over and over in her mind was, ‘please be alive, please be a live, please be alive.’ When she had moved enough of the rubble, she carefully moved the table off of Jay. When she took in his condition, her inner mantra was interrupted with a sad, ‘there’s no way he’s alive.’ Followed by “fuck, fuck, fuck,” which she thinks she said out loud. He was basically sitting against the column, covered in dust, blood and pastries, legs splayed, one hand on his lap, the other to his side. He was leaning slightly to the left, head laying on his chest. The right side of his face and head seemed to have taken the brunt of the damage from the table. There was a trail of blood running through the dust on his face from a cut above his eyebrow and another at his hair line. He has a split lip and another smaller cut, that’s barely bleeding, across the bridge of his nose. There is a compound fracture in the hand that’s lying in his lap and he has a butter knife stuck deep into his shoulder. But what worried her most, is the piece of rebar sticking out of the left side of his abdomen. 

She leans in to check for a pulse and is startled by Jay’s rasp of a voice, “By…my count…you’ve said ‘fuck’…eight.times, you need to put…$40 into…your ’no swearing bucket.” He hasn’t moved or opened his eyes but she has never been so happy to hear his voice. “I don’t pay in hotshot, that’s for everyone else, I just take out. You just said “fuck” so I’ll be expecting $5.”

“Hmph. Ya, we’ll see…” He pauses a second and grimaces in pain, “…what happened?”

“Something blew up.”

“Miller?”

“I don’t know Halstead, he wasn’t in the room with us and I don’t know what other parts of the building were damaged in the blast.”

“Hmm…”. With that he tries to shift his body a little, which causes him to cry out in pain, leaving him panting and trying to breath through it. When that doesn’t work he moves his hand to the pain in his abdomen. As soon as his hand hits the rebar, he screams in pain and then sinks back into unconsciousness. “Jay? Jay…”. She puts her fingers on his neck and finds a pretty strong pulse, considering. 

She looks around trying to assess their situation. Stumbling to where she thinks the door was, she calls for help and gets no response. She moves to the other side of the room and calls again, still no response. Jay groans and she moves back to him. 

“Platt…Platt…” He still hasn’t opened his eyes so she puts a hand on each side of his face, “Right here Jay, right here.” 

“You called me by my first name, things must be pretty bad.”

“Ya, well, hmm. Listen Halstead, I need to get a better look at that knife and rebar poking out of your body, okay? I’m going to try to be gentle and not move you.”

“Okay,…”. She starts lo lean around to get a view of his back, when he finishes his thought, “…I am a little worried about your version of ‘gentle’ though.” 

“Well, why don’t we just find out, so don’t be a chicken Halstead. We’ll start with the easy part first.” She feels the back of his shoulder and the knife hasn’t come all the way through. “So far so good.” Without moving him she slides her hand in the small gap between the wall and his lower back and slowly starts to move her hand up. She barely touches the rebar and Jay throws his head back screaming in agony and promptly passes out, his head falling back to his chest.

“Fuck.” She again checks for a pulse - still there but it seems weaker. 

Platt uses the ten minutes or so Jay is out to scream for help and pound on whatever part of the wall that’s still visible. Her periodic checks on Jay show no change and she gets no response to her calls for help from the outside world. All the noise she is making must of roused Jay because she hears a low groan coming from him.

She crouches down next to him and feels his pulse, the same. She puts a hand on either side of his face and he slowly raises his head so he is facing her. His face now has a fine sheen of cold sweat. 

“Jay? Jay, I need you to open your eyes and look at me.” 

“Mm.” 

His eyes flutter open but they aren’t focused. His pupils are uneven, definitely a concussion but how bad, she doesn’t know. He blinks his eyes a few times and they slowly come into focus until she can tell he is finally seeing her. 

“Sarge, your bleeding are you okay?” She touches the bloody cut on her cheek and shakes her head. Right on par for Halstead, asking her if SHE’S okay. “I’m fine Jay, it’s you I’m worried about.” He winces and closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them again as he tries to slow his breathing to to help with the pain. “That’s it Jay, just keep breathing. Help’s coming.”

“Hey Sarge…” his breath catches as a wave of pain goes through him, “Hey Sarge, can you…can you stop…calling me Jay. You’re kind of…freaking me out.” His eyes lose their focus and he lets out another groan. “Hey, Halstead, I need you to stay awake okay?” He doesn’t respond but keeps his unfocused eyes on her just the same. 

She gives him a once over and notices the wound in his abdomen is bleeding more. The blood has soaked the bottom of his shirt and is spreading to his jeans, moving towards the floor. It wasn’t bleeding much at first, the bar itself was probably stemming the flow. 

“Hey Halstead, Halstead! Look at me.” 

His head had dropped to his chest again. He lifts it, “Sarge?” 

“Hey, no sleeping. Technically your on the clock, so eyes on me.” That gets her a smirk. “Halstead, look…I need to check what’s going on with the knife and rebar, okay?” His eyes close again, “Halstead…stay with me,” he scrunches his eyes and then opens them and they are focused again. “I have to open your shirt. I need to see how bad the damage is.”

He blinks his eyes as they go in and out of focus, “Awe, Sarge, you know…you just… want to check me out.” He tries to give me his trademark smirk but it comes out looking more like a grimace. 

“Dream on kid, your body ain’t got nothin on Mouch.” 

That made him smile. As much as they engaged in their sarcastic, demeaning banter at work, there was nothing but respect for each other behind it. He was happy for her and Mouch, two really good people that deserved to find each other. She was so in love with her fireman, it was actually kind of cute. He’d never tell her that though. 

“You keep telling…yourself that, Sarge. Your secret is safe…with me.” That earned him her famous “if looks could kill” stare. It made him glad he wasn’t a criminal booked into the 21st. Trudy Platt’s personality gave Hank Voight’s cage a run for it’s money - neither one being a pleasant place for criminals.

“Here we go…” She slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, careful not to move it too much. He sucks in a breath and grimaces as she gets to the last two buttons. “I know kid, I know. Bear with me.” He closes his eyes but he’s still with her, just focusing on his breathing. He’s got a lot of blood on his chest and abdomen but she still can’t see the entrance wounds. “I’m going to cut your shirt a bit Jay. I can’t see the wounds well enough, ok?” She doesn’t wait for a reply even though he gives her a response in the form of a wince. She uses the scissors on her pocket knife to cut from the edge of the shirt to the knife, then again from the edge to the rebar. They both wince when she carefully pulls the shirt away; him from pain, her from how bad it looks. She had thought both wounds were from the front, from the blast debris but now she sees the rebar must have been sticking out of the wall, impaling him as he slammed against it. “Shit.” He’s basically stuck to the wall. It worries her that she isn’t getting any snark from him, the kid’s passed out again.

Normally you would put pressure on a bleeding wound but this, this, is beyond her scope. With every move the bar shifts and it bleeds more. Best to let the rebar itself keep the pressure for now. She feels helpless because the only thing she can do is keep him talking as they wait for help…if it was coming. 

“Halstead! Hals…”. 

“What. Sarge…” he mumbles, “why do you keep bothering me?” He opens his eyes and again they aren’t focused. He is showing the early signs of shock, clammy skin, pale and his breathing is coming in short gasping breaths.

“I know you feel like shit Jay but I need you to stay with me. You’re going into shock. I need you to keep focusing on your breathing okay?” 

“O…kay, Sarge. Anything…for you.”

“Keep breathing. I’m going to do a bit more yelling and see if we can get ourselves rescued.”

She’s been yelling and hitting the wall with a piece of wood, going back to check on Jay in-between her little yelling bursts. After her last yelling session, which ended in a frustrated scream, she went to check on Jay again. He was shivering now, causing him even more pain. She drops to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his face, desperately trying to get him to focus on her when she hears music to her ears.

“Trudy, Trudy call out. Fire department. Call out!”

She jumped up, “Mouch, Mouch! In here.” She slammed her palm against the wall. “We’re in here.”

“Oh, thank God. Trudy! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine but Halstead’s bad. He needs help fast.”

Severide cuts in, “Platt, stand back. We’re going to cut through.” 

“Okay, moving now.”

She goes back to Jay and tries to get him to focus on her again as the saws start cutting through the wall. “It’s going to be okay. They’re here, help is here, Jay.”

The saws made quick work of the wall and less than 5 minutes later their rescuers were rushing into the room, Casey and Severide leading the way followed by Gaby and Sylvie. Platt moves away then to give the medics more room to work, giving Mouch a quick hug, then filling them in on Jay’s injuries.

“The rebar has him stuck to the wall. He’s been in and out of consciousness and has been growing less and less coherent.” 

Severide and Casey bend down on either side of Jay assessing the situation. Sylvie get’s an IV going while Gaby puts a collar and an oxygen mask on him, to which Jay promptly freaks out. They try to get him to calm down but he continues to claw at the collar and mask, eyes wide with fear. 

Platt realizes what is going on, knowing Jay’s file inside and out, “He’s claustrophobic, take it off, take it off! He’s hurting himself.” 

By this time Gaby has already started to remove the items in question, guessing correctly what is going on. 

Sylvie grabs the IV line, “Pushing 6 of Ketamine.” Jay almost immediately starts to calm down but the trembling of his body continues, although it has lessened. Considering his injuries, the most the Ketamine will do is calm him and maybe take the edge off the pain, so unfortunately the guy is still conscious. “We have to move fast, that’s going to last 15 minutes at the most and it’s the max we can give in the field.”

Gaby has finished cutting the rest of Jay’s shirt off when the whole of Intelligence rushes in, led by Voight with Erin rushing past him to Jay’s side and touching his cheek.

“Jay, babe. I’m here. Hey, we’re all here. You’re going to be okay. They’re gunna get you out of here. Just stay with us okay.” As soon as Jay hears Erin’s voice his eyes spring open. “Er, hey…it’s okay. I’m fine,” he whispers, pain still etched on his face. To which Erin gives an exasperated sigh. He gives a weak chuckle, mumbling, “okay, kinda fine.” She touches his cheek again in response to his weak joke then moves back so the firefighters can do there thing. 

Trudy had just finished filling in Hank and the guys on what had happened, their eyes never leaving Jay, when Erin joins the group. They stand there helpless; all they can do is watch. 

“Okay, Jay…” Jay tries to focus on who’s talking but there are too many people, so he just looks in the general direction of the voice. Severide continues, “Jay, I need to lean you forward just a bit so we can see the rebar; you’re going to lean against Casey. He won’t let you go too far. We just need a little room to see, okay.” Casey moves into position, kneeling at Jay’s right side, putting one hand on Jay’s upper back and the other across his chest. He is leaning in towards Jay’s right shoulder, ready to brace him when they move him forward, then he moves forward the last few inches, barely touching Jay’s body, “Jay, can you put your chin on my shoulder.” It takes Jay a second and it’s a bit of a struggle but finally he’s able do it. 

Intelligence watches the scene play out in front of them, all worried about Halstead. 

“Jay…Jay…” 

“What…Now?… Jeez!” 

This earns a shake of the head from Al and a quiet, “Damn kid.” 

Severide chuckles, “Jay, we’re going to start now. Casey’s got you, okay. Here we go…” Casey gives Severide a nod and they move Jay forward maybe an inch. Jay lets out a loud groan through clenched teeth and pushes his forehead into Casey’s shoulder. Casey gives his back a rub, “I know, I know buddy. You’re doing great. Just hold on, we’re almost there.” Casey and Severide exchange a look, while Jay is trying to catch his breath. Whatever they just communicated to each other, isn’t good. Severide breaks the news, noticing the trembling in Jay’s body has increased, as Casey continues to hold Jay’s body in place. “Ok, here’s the scoop Jay, you’re going into shock so we have to move fast. Casey’s going to hold you right there,” he holds up a small hand held saw with a round blade, “I’m going to have to cut through the rebar. We can’t pull you off of it, you’ll lose too much blood. We’ll transfer you to the hospital with it still in you.” Jay groans. “I’m not going to lie, buddy, this is going to hurt like a bitch but it will be quick - it’s a diamond blade but there’s still going to be a vibration.” Severide gives Casey a nod. “Ya ready buddy.”

“Jus…do it.”

Severide gives a last look at Intelligence. The worry on their faces mirrors his own.

“Okay, here we go, Casey?”

“I got him. I got ya Jay…here we go.” Severide gives a nod and starts the saw. As soon as it touches the rebar, Jay lifts his head from Casey’s shoulder, screams in agony and then collapses unconscious against Casey. Severide was right. It was quick but to Jay it probably felt like a million years. 

Intelligence rushes forward, surrounding the group trying to save Jay. Casey is still holding him while Gaby gets the backboard ready and Brett puts the cervical collar and oxygen mask back on him now that he’s passed out. The three of them and Severide move with synchronicity, Severide holding his broken hand so it doesn’t get jostled, while the other three slowly lower Jay onto the board, keeping him on his side and working to stabilize him in that position with foam wedges. Gaby places a wedge under Jay’s head, while Sylvie, Casey and Severide put them along his body, avoiding the rebar and knife. Gaby then positions a moldable foam block under the rebar so it doesn’t move and repeats the action for the knife in his shoulder and his hand as it rests against his leg while Sylvie secures Jay’s left arm to his body so it doesn’t shift into the rebar. Once they have him strapped in place, Severide, Casey, Ruzek and Atwater lift the board and everyone moves as a group out of the rubble.

Everyone stands by and watches as Jay is loaded into the ambulance, all wanting to help but powerless to do so. Sylvie and Gaby both get in the back of the ambulance, Casey in the front to drive. Both paramedics will be needed in the back, the bleeding around the rebar has increased significantly from the transfer out of the building.

 

6 HOURS LATER SURGICAL WAITING ROOM

Will walks into the waiting room and it’s almost comical how they all get up at once and move toward him for the news on Jay. The first thing he does is smile and the anxiety they are all holding in their bodies lessens. Which also makes him smile. The Intelligence Unit of the 21st is very synchronized. I wouldn’t be surprised if their hearts beat to the same rhythm.

“He’s going to be okay - eventually. A grade 3 concussion and two broken ribs to go along with being impaled by a piece of rebar. It was touch and go when he was in surgery. He had lost a lot of blood already and taking the rebar out was going to “unblock the dam” so they had three surgeons working on him. They widened both entrance and exit wounds around the rebar. They had one surgeon in the front, slowly pulling out the bar and two in the back fixing the “bleeders” as they came. Oddly enough or luckily enough the bar didn’t do a lot of damage to anything major. A kidney and part of his upper intestine were nicked but those were easy enough to fix. He’s on high doses of antibiotics. Right now our only concern is the infection that is already running rampant in his body, a dirty piece of metal will do that to you. They cleaned out the area of his compound fractures but won’t be able to set them until he is stable and the antibiotics are working, hopefully within the next 24 hours. So, now we wait. Maggie’s going to come get you when he is situated in his room.” 

 

8 HOURS LATER Surgical ICU

Trudy Platt stands outside the sliding glass door of Jay’s room just watching. She can’t bring herself to go in yet, even though everyone has cleared out to give her some time with Jay on her own. She stands there and contemplates Jay Halstead’s life and what he’s gone through. It’s part of her job to know EVERYTHING about EVERYONE in the 21st District. There’s a lot to know about this kid. This is all just more bullshit on top of the bullshit that he’s already gone through in his young life. 

She takes in the young detective lying unconscious in the hospital bed, the head of which is slightly raised. Sheet to waist, no shirt, hooked up to machines and monitors that she doesn’t care to know about, as long as they keep him alive. Every injury visible, well, at least the ones on the outside. The knife wound in his shoulder is covered by a small, slightly bloody bandage. They were able to remove the knife easily enough and it didn’t cause any real damage. The cuts above his eyebrow and at his hairline have been stitched, his split lip and smaller cuts have been left to heal on their own. Someone has cleaned most of the blood is off of his face. His concussion is another story and will definitely, at least for awhile, keep him down for the count. It’s his torso though, that her eyes are drawn to, covered in bruises and small cuts that she hadn’t noticed before and a drainage tube has taken the place of the rebar. She thinks about what is going on underneath those bruises and the pain that kid must have been going through. She stares, eyes glassy with unshed tears that she quickly blinks away. Her eyes travel back up to his face and there she is surprised. His face had looked somewhat peaceful, if battered, when she first arrived but now his eyes dart back and forth beneath his lids while his mouth parts, then twists in agony. It isn’t until his body arches off the bed that she springs into action.

“Jay? Jay…it’s okay.” His exhausted body has fallen back to the bed but he is still stuck in the physical and mental pain of the nightmare. Telling him it’s okay does nothing to alleviate that pain. “Jay…” she puts a hand gently on his left shoulder, “Jay…” when he doesn’t settle she moves her hands to his face and leans in, “Jay, I need you to wake up now, you’re okay…Halstead…it’s Platt, you’re in the hospital…wake up.”

He stills and gradually his eyes flutter open, “You’re going to be alright Jay, you’re at med.” She searches his eyes for awareness continuing to keep her hands on either his face. “Sarge?” he rasps. He’s back. Then an interesting array of emotions cross his face; fear, confusion, embarrassment and lastly, gratitude and relief. His eyes continue to focus on her, his lifeline between the nightmare and reality. “You’re okay. I’ll be right here.” He lets out a painful huff of breath. Only then does she remove her hands from his face and pulls the chair up closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving her. She puts her hand on his arm and leaves it there as she sits down. “I’ll be right here.” A small smile touches his lips as his eyes flutter and he slips back into unconsciousness. “I’ll be right here.”

 

EPILOGUE

She watches him slowly make his way up the steps, shakes her head and sighs. His pale face is still bruised. His casted left arm is held tightly to his side; a body stiff with pain causing an occasional grimace to break through his stoic facade. He’s probably supposed to be wearing a sling but you know that’s not going to happen, at least not in public. 

His evaluation for desk duty isn’t even SCHEDULED yet and here he is. We all knew the stubborn ass would show up well before he’s cleared to work. And here he is, gimping up the steps, causing her to lose the bet. The betting pool was up to $1200 last time she checked. She had guessed 8 days after he left the hospital. It’s been 6, the little shit.

Platt is giving a rookie the what for when Jay finally walks into the district. She looks at him and for a moment their eyes meet. There’s something more now, than the mutual respect; friendship? Protectiveness? Who knows, just something. The eye contact on Platt’s side quickly changes to her patented look of disdain; a look that will burns holes into those “lucky” enough to be in her presence, a look he knows all to well and has missed. He breaks into that shit kicking grin. He’s home. 

“Hey Sarge! God, I’ve missed this place.” 

She is incredulous. “Well, you look like crap and mucking up the scenery.” He looks around at all of the drunks, criminals and prostitutes clogging up the waiting area and laughs. Yup. He’s home.


	3. Accidentally all of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was working on my Erin one shot when I was reminded of a movie that came out not too long ago and caused this little bugger to jump into my head. My noggin does what it wants. I have no control over it whatsoever!
> 
> Oh, and this accidentally became all of Intelligence even though most of them don’t talk or there is no POV from them (no Erin though, this takes place after she left) Sorry. Just pretend they’re all there watching what's happening. I have a hard time writing everyone in. Sorry again. I had fun writing this even though it was a little difficult. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> All mistakes are my own…can’t think of anyone to blame them on.

“I need everyone to stay sharp.” Voight began, raspy voice drawing all eyes to him, as they all prepped for the takedown that would be happening two days from now. They were standing in a broken down, concrete courtyard with weeds growing from the cracks of the chipped surface. The courtyard was surrounded by three dilapidated brick buildings, with the Southside open to an abandoned parking lot.

Intelligence and SWAT had spent the morning and part of the afternoon setting up cameras and clearing the buildings and surrounding areas. Now Intelligence was on their own again, Voight putting the SWAT team on standby and sending them back to the precinct. Six SWAT members would be staying and helping with the take down.

“We’ll have a team of snipers on each building. Halstead and Jackson take the north building…” Both give a nod, acknowledging their assignment, “…Olinsky and Graf, the east and Adam and Turner the west.”

Jay cuts in, elbowing Ruzek, “Moving up in the world.”

“Shut up. I’m better than you now.”

Jay smirks and Al gives the youngster a look.

Adam raises his hands in surrender, “Okay okay.”

Al shakes his head with a chuckle, “You’re kidding yourself Ruzek.” The entire team, even the SWAT members knew there was not a better sniper in CPD than Jay or probably the country for that matter.

“What can I say, I like a good joke.”

Everyone laughs and Jay flicks Ruzek’s ear. Leave it to Ruzek to break the tension in the situation.

Voight interrupts the laughter, “The rest of us will be on the ground floors of each building for the take down and if the gang sends in their own crew to sweep the buildings. Okay, grab your stuff and head up. I want everyone on coms starting now.”

Everyone puts their coms in their ears, grabs their vests, coolers and guns and heads off to their positions.

Jay doesn’t put in his coms yet or activate it. “Voight…” Voight stops and walks back to Jay.

Jay motions to Voight’s coms. “It’s not on. What’s up kid?”

“Do you know all of these SWAT guys? Cuz I’ve never seen Jackson before and I was getting a bad vibe off him when we were clearing our floors.”

Hank keeps his eyes Halstead, not wanting to give away what they are talking about. “I know he’s new on the SWAT team…” He gives Jay a searching look. He trusts him and if he’s getting a bad vibe, then there’s a reason. “Take your position, I’ll have Platt and Mouse look into it.”

Voight gets on his cell phone and relays the information to Platt. They were going to need that information ASAP.

Coms in, they both grab their gear when Jay sees something out of the corner of his eye.

“Everyone get down!” He yells and pushes Voight as hard as he can, hopefully out of the blast radius.

 

HAILEY”S POV

Everyone had ran for cover as soon as Jay yelled, all of us making it out of the blast range. Only Voight and Jay were affected by the concussion grenade. When the smoke cleared, Voight was on the ground a yard or so from Al, shaking his head to clear it, pushed there mostly by Jay and partly by the blast. Jay, was still in the middle of the courtyard, holding his head as he tried to roll over onto his belly. He had finally managed to get to his knees, when a single shot rang out and threw him backwards onto the pavement, his head hitting the hard surface and knocking him out.

“Jay!” I screamed along with other members of the team.

Fucking hell, six more bullets ping the ground around Jay, who still hasn’t moved. Ruzek makes a move towards Jay but Voight grabs him, yelling at everyone, “Fall back, fall back! I want everyone back.”

“But Sarge, Jay…” Just then another bullet hits the ground between Jay and where they are standing.

Voight still hasn’t let go of Adam, “Move! If they wanted him dead, he’d be dead already. He’s breathing, I don’t want anyone else getting shot, now get back!”

We all ran for the cover of the east building, knowing the shot had come from the southeast corner of the North building, per Al. He also said we were out of the line of sight and about as far from the shooter as we could be. Apparently there are shooters on the roof of the building we’re in, based on the angle of some of the shots. Al thinks there are 3 or 4 shooters spread out over the roofs of the two buildings. So, basically with that much coverage, any move we make towards Jay, will just get him killed. Antonio had called SWAT back to the location and 51 will be on standby. If we got Jay out alive, 51 needed to keep him alive. I’m not one to freak out under pressure, but right now I am pretty close to doing so. I have never felt so powerless.

There are only two “doors” into the room we’re in, which, by the looks of it, used to be a laundry room. The doors are on opposite sides of the building, both leading outside. Actually, a better description would probably be, two large holes the size and dimensions of a door. Voight had put two SWAT guys on each door; right side looks left, left side looks right, so between that and Adam’s flex cameras we have a clear view of anyone trying to breach our position.

Besides the two doors, there was a hole in the wall that had probably once housed a large window. It faced the courtyard. This is were we, for the most part, have placed ourselves as we watch Jay laying motionless in the courtyard.

 

ADAM’S POV

Another shot rings out and hits two feet from Jay’s head. Startling us all. Jay doesn’t move.

“He’s still breathing.”

“Can anyone see where he’s hit?”

“I can’t see shit.”

“It’s probably the other side of his body. I’m thinking shoulder or upper arm by the way he snapped back.”

“I think there’s blood coming from under his head but I’m not sure, it could be a shadow.”

“Everyone CALM DOWN!” Voight puts an end to our verbal angst. “Freaking out will not help Jay or our situation. Hailey, keep talking to him. When he comes to, we don’t want him to move.”

The ‘when’ was pretty optimistic on Voight’s part, which I appreciate. Hailey has been talking quietly to Jay since just after we got to the room. At first trying to wake him but now just keeping a steady flow of chatter, letting him know we were there and more importantly to NOT MOVE. Voight said Jay had turned on his coms but we haven’t heard anything from him yet. So, we watched.

Voight had yelled at the shooters a couple of times but hadn’t gotten a response. We know they’re still up there, we just don’t know what he’s waiting for.

Another shot rings out, the pavement at Jay’s right hip kicks up…the shooter reminding them of his presence.

“Sarge, Sarge…” Hailey hisses trying to get his attention. She nods her head towards the courtyard. We all look. Jay’s hand is twitching. Hailey continues her stream of chatter at Jay.

“Jay, Jay, it’s Hailey. I need you to keep still. Don’t move Jay. No matter what you do don’t move.”

Jay’s hand flops at his side… “Jay!” Hailey is more forceful with her quiet plea, “Do Not move. They have a gun trained on you…Sarge!”

“Halstead…just breath. Don’t move kid. We need you to keep still.”

We can see Jay lick his lips and then hear a quiet “okay” as he opens his eyes.

Atwater chimes in, “SWAT is 5 minutes out. They’ll kill the sirens when they get to the parking lot.”

Voight gives him a nod.

Antonio and Al are both looking out the same side of the window, and Al chimes in on the conversation with Jay.

“Good kid, good, stay still. I’m need to ask you some questions. Just answer yes or no or one word only okay?”

Jay licks his lips again. “Okay.”

Al continues, “I need to know where you are shot.”

Jay takes a deep breath and blows it out before he replies, “Shoulder.” Then, “left”

“Can you tell if there’s an exit wound?”

There’s a long pause, “No,” he whispers. “not sure.”

“Ok, you’re doing good Jay, you’re doing good.”

I hear a quiet “‘K” over the coms. We’re all watching Jay. He remains still and blinks his eyes open wide, like he’s trying to stay conscious.

“Hey kid, you hit your head pretty hard, can you…”

“Tired.” His eyes stay open for another second then close.

“Shit, Jay…”

Another shot rings out, causing all of us to flinch and Jay’s eyes spring open. His body tenses up as the bullet hits the pavement just to his left.

Voight yells at the shooter again but still gets no answer.

Another shot rings out and hits just beyond Jay’s head. Jay closes his eyes and breathes. You can tell he’s trying to stave off a panic attack.

I’m pacing around with my hands on my head, “Jesus Christ!”

Another shot hits to Jay’s right. Jay opens his eyes and just stares at the sky. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Now he looks so calm it’s scary, like he’s accepted that one of these bullets are going to hit him. One of these bullets are going to kill him and there’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing we can do.

Al gives us all a worried look when Jay closes his eyes again. Well, more worried and talks to Jay, “Listen kid, we’re here. You’re going to be okay. We aren’t going anywhere. I know it’s hard and I know you want to move but please, just stay still.”

He doesn’t answer and doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay, it’s Hailey. I’m going to keep talking to you so I don’t have to talk to Ruzek, okay.” She gives me a sad shrug. What in the hell are you supposed to talk about with someone who has bullets bouncing inches from their body. “We’re going to get you out of there, Jay, I promise.”

Nothing.

I have to hope he passed out. The last thing we need with SWAT arriving is for Jay to get all twitchy and get shot again. The shooters had to know we would call for backup, hence the sirens. Killing them at the parking lot was for Jay. We wanted the shooters to know they were close so it wouldn’t be a surprise when they arrived but if Jay is moving on top of it, they might panic.

Another shot rings out…the concrete kicks up at Jay’s feet. He doesn’t flinch.

If I thought the tension in the room was thick before, it just tripled. The situation is so messed up. No one knows what the hell is happening. Why the hell are they keeping Jay pinned down in the middle of that courtyard but not making any demands? The whole situation doesn’t make sense. Not 30 seconds later we hear SWAT kill their sirens and pull into the parking lot.

 

As soon as the two SWAT cargo vans are parked and movement starts on the far side of them, a shooter finally communicates. First with bullets, as four shots ring out in quick succession, hitting the pavement at various points around Jay’s body. His ams and face are starting to get cut up by the flying concrete.

Now that they have shown SWAT who’s in control, they talk.

“Voight! I want to talk to Hank Voight.”

“I’m here. Let me get my detective from the courtyard and we’ll talk.”

“Naw, Voight. That’s not gunna happen. Your boy is staying right where he is. You make a move for him or I see any helicopters, the next bullet goes in his head.”

Just to prove their point, another shot rings out and concrete kicks up a foot to the right of Jay’s head. Jay doesn’t move but blood now trickles from a deeper cut on the side of his face.

“Who am I talking to? What do you want?”

“Alright, Voight, ya, lets get down to business…” Another bullet hits the pavement at Jay’s feet.

“First, asshole, we want Maurice and Andre released and second we want the drugs, guns and money you pinched in that raid.”

Voight hangs his head. V-Nation. Shit, could this day get any worse? This wasn’t just any gang, trying to make a name for themselves, this was THE gang. The takedown was supposed to be a faction of the Latin Kings but I guess they called in their own backup.

Voight grimaces. Anything he says could be Jay’s death sentence. He takes a breath and blows it out, “I can’t do that. You know I can’t. That inventory is out of my hands now. What happens with Maurice and Andre is out of my hands.”

We all hold our breath and watch Jay laying in the court yard. He’s awake again and puts his hand to his face, probably forgetting what was going on. Hailey is desperately asking him to hold still so he doesn’t get shot. This is so fucked up.

“Don’t FUCK with me Voight. You’re starting to piss me off. Those are the demands. We all know you’re as crooked as they come, so get it done or your boy is going to die a slow and painful death.”

“Hailey…”

“Ya, Jay. I’m here.”

There is a look of confusion on Jay’s face, like he can’t quite keep his thoughts straight.  
He’s definitely got a concussion.

“Voight! You hear me? I’m not playing.”

Just then there is a loud ‘THWACK’ and Jay screams in agony.

Shit! As soon as Jay is hit, he sits up grabbing the calf of his right leg where an aluminum arrow is pinning it to the ground, screaming through his clenched teeth. He flops back down for a second before coming back up again, shaking hands grabbing his calf. Eventually he flops back down for good and crosses his arms over his eyes, breathing heavily and trying to keep from passing out.

This whole time we are all yelling in the coms, which is probably not helping Jay at all but we’re all freaked out.

“Alright, ALRIGHT!” Voight yells out the window. “Give me some time. I’ll get you what you want.”

Voight silences all of us with a look. Al talks to Jay.

“Breath Jay, breath. I’m sorry kid. I know you’re in pain but just try to stay still. We’re going to get you out of this, it’s gunna take a little time. Just stay with us.” Al exchanges a look with Voight.

“Make it quick Voight. We got lots of arrows and a whole lotta bullets.”

“I need to get to the SWAT van so I can make this work.”

“Go ahead Voight, we won’t waste our bullets on you, not when we have your boy here to play with.”

The crazy asshole and his cronies laugh. A lazy arrow arcs through the air and lands in the courtyard, the metal shaft buried at least 4 inches into the pavement. It’s not anywhere near Jay but an ominous warning just the same.

Voight talks to Jay, “You with us kid?”

Jay grimaces as his hand goes to injured left shoulder, the pain flaring from his sudden movements. He is finally getting control of his breathing but his voice is dripping with pain.

“I’m here. I’m here. Fuck…”

“We’re going to get you out of this. Just hang in there.”

“An arrow? They shot me with a fucking arrow.” He manages some sarcasm but his voice is weak, barely a whisper.

How do you answer that? I exchange a look with Hailey and then Antonio. I cut my coms so Jay can’t hear me.

“What the fuck? What the fuck are we going to do? Did you see when he sat up? The whole back of his head is covered in blood and the bullet is still in his shoulder, there’s no exit wound.”

Hailey cuts her coms and so does the rest of the team, “That might be for the best. The bullet’s probably keeping the bleeding to a minimum.”

My eyes haven’t left Jay as he takes his shaking, bloody hand from his left shoulder and crosses it back over his other arm.

Antonio speaks up interrupting the hushed conversation between Al and Voight,

“What’s the game plan here, Voight?”

Voight doesn’t answer that question but hands Al his ear piece and quietly says ‘channel 6’

“Burgess you’re with me.” He yells up to the gang members that he and Burgess are heading to the vans and the two of them leave the room and make it to the vans without incident. Al tries to keep Jay calm and assess how he is really doing.

“Jay, we’re here. We’re working on getting you out of there. Voight and Burgess are with SWAT right now and we have Platt and Mouse working on it back at the District. So just hang in there. How’s your shoulder?”

Another shot rings out, kicking up more pavement. Jay’s body goes stiff as a board.

Antonio gives it a try, “Jay? Come on man talk to us.”

Nothing.

We all watch him. Waiting for him to respond. He’s holding his shoulder again as the arm still lays across his eyes. His right leg has bled a lot but at least it looks to have stopped for now. He’s sweating but the sun is already starting to go down. The temperature will drop significantly when in does.

Hailey tries, “Jay, we need to know you’re still with us.”

He doesn’t say anything but then we hear a quiet groan and the pain laced ‘shit’ that he was trying to suppress through his tightly clenched teeth.

“Jay, we need you to put your left arm down, slowly and just keep it by your side. We don’t want the bullet to shift.”

He doesn’t acknowledge us but eventually there’s a deep inhale and he puts both arms down. His right hand still shaking as he takes hold of his left wrist, holding his injured arm bent against his chest, eyes staring up at the darkening sky.

 

LATER

The sun has dipped below the horizon and we’re feeling the chill so I can’t imagine what it’s like for Jay, laying on the cold concrete. His eyes have closed again, passed out or sleeping, his body trembling from the cold or shock or maybe from the bullets that fly his way every three to four minutes.

We’re on hold, waiting for Voight to give us an update. We’ve been taking turns quietly talking to Jay. He has stopped responding to us a while ago but we still don’t want him to feel alone out there if he is listening.

Al gets our attention and signals for us to go to six, leaving the SWAT members, who aren’t privy to what’s going on and Hailey on the open channel. Hailey continues her one sided conversation with Jay. When we’re all there he gives a quiet ‘go’ to Voight. We listen silently, most of us never taking our eyes off Jay. When Voight finishes his monologue we all switch back to the open channel and Voight speaks to all of us.

“We’re working something out, we’re almost there. So you guys hold tight. I’m trying to see if they’ll let me come back in with a couple of guys from 51 and Will. Jay’s going to need medical attention ASAP. Hopefully I’ll see you soon with good news.” Then he addresses Jay, “Hang in there kid. It’s almost over. Will’s here. We’ll get him to you as soon as we can.”

 

AN HOUR LATER

Voight just got back, followed by Casey and Severide. Sylvie, Gaby, and Will bring up the rear. They’ve all joined us at the window, watching Jay and trying to come up with a game plan for when this is all over. Voight and Al have moved away from the group and are talking to someone on channel 6 and Voight sounds pretty pissed. We all switch back to 6 to listen in.

“…well then who had eyes on the place since we set up the meet?”

Mouse is the other side of the conversation,

“Jackson and Burgos.”

“Goddammit!”

The room goes quiet as all eyes turn to the east door where the two SWAT members had been stationed. Jackson is gone. Voight gives Burgos a death stare.

“What?”

“Let’s have a little chat.”

Antonio slams Burgos against the wall and then sits him down onto an overturned washer. All of Intelligence is looming over him. Even Hailey’s small stature looms with the rest of us. Will has taken up coms and continues the one sided conversation with his brother. The other four SWAT members are smart enough to watch from the background and see how this plays out. Burgos knows Voight’s reputation and decides to be smart and give up the info on the gang.

“Please Voight, I…”

“Save it! What’s the plan?”

Burgos closes his eyes and caves. “They’ve been here since last night. We let them slip in. The plan was for Jackson to report that his floor in the North building was clear even though it wasn’t. I was supposed to do the same with this one. After they we were done clearing the building the guys were going to move into their positions.”

Voight waits. If looks could kill, Burgos’ head would have imploded.

“Four guys on each roof - A spotter, lookout and two rifles on each building and Andre’s deranged little brother also has the crossbow on the north building.”

“And…”

“There are four more guys sitting over on 17th St. waiting to do the pick-up of the goods.”

“And…”

“They also have explosives and a couple more of the flashbangs. Jackson has been slowly stealing the stuff from SWAT inventory, he’s in charge of it. I swear I don’t know the rest of the plan. My job was just to pretend that my floor was clear and to let Jackson slip out without saying anything.”

Al chimes in, “Why are you doing this? You’re a decorated cop. 10 years on the force.”

“I had no choice. They have my wife and daughter.” He looks at us, begging us to understand. “Jackson and I were childhood friends. I thought he had got out of the gang. He said he wanted to be a cop to help other people that were stuck with no options just like him. I was proud of him, vouched for him and supported him when he got the promotion to SWAT. Now it turns out it was all bullshit. They had a plan all along to have an active gang member in the CPD.”

Everyone is silent. That’s when Burgos breaks down.

“Please Voight. I had no choice, they’re my whole world…my wife…my daughter is 6, man. I don’t care what you do to me. I deserve what ever I get but you have to get them back.”

Voight glares and turns away, “Goddammit!”

Al just hangs his head, “Well this throws a wrench in the works.”

Voight gets back on the coms and delays the plan. “Mouse, find out where the hell they’re holding Burgos’ wife and kid. I’m not sure how much longer Jay can last.”

 

LATER

I’m leaning against the wall looking out at Jay. We all are. He still hasn’t responded to Will and the trembling in his body, either from pain or cold, has increased. The plan is on hold until Burgos’ family is secure. Emotionally I am flipping back and forth between rage and fear. I hope we can get to Jay in time.

It’s dark now but unfortunately the assholes have the courtyard lit up like it’s noon. The good news is we can still see Jay. The bad news is, so can they. My chin is resting on my hand as I lean against the window when I, along with everyone else jerks to attention. Jay is moving, his head is tossing back and forth, a pained expression on his face. Will’s monologue becomes more stressed.

“Jay, I’m here. Come on brother, I’m begging you, please don’t move.” He looks at us, desperation in his eyes, pleading for us to do something to save his brother. He turns back to Jay just in time to see him jerk awake and sit up, clutching for his injured calf in pain and confusion. When he starts to crumble, passing back out from the pain, a shot rings out and Jay’s head snaps back, slamming him down to the pavement. Whoops and laughter ring out from the roof tops. Blood runs freely down the side of his face.

I can’t handle it anymore and scream out the window.

“What the fuck, you assholes! He’s no good to you if he’s dead.”

“Don’t worry bitch. He ain’t dead. See, he opened his eyes. Bruno just grazed him. He could give your snipes a run for their money, huh? Maybe Bruno should join SWAT.”

More laughter, then beer bottles crash around Jay, cutting up his bare arms and littering his chest with broken glass.

Jay continues to just stare into space as Will desperately tries to get Jay to talk to him.

Voight is quietly screaming in the coms for a status on the take down.

Suddenly a burst of 8-10 shots ring out one after another and the pavement around Jay lights up in mini explosions as the bullets hit. Jay lets out a yelp and a red stain grows on the right side of his abdomen. When the bullets finally stop it is ungodly quiet.

A loud cackle erupts then a sarcastic,

“Oops…” A single shot rings out and hits inches from Jay’s right side.

“…that’s what I meant to do.”

More laughter echos through the courtyard and then abruptly stops as we hear the ping, ping, ping of the gang members being picked off by the SWAT snipers. The assholes drop like flies from the rooftops. Finally we get the ‘all clear’ in our coms and rush out to Jay.

Jay’s in a full blown panic attack, trying to get air and failing. Will is at his side trying to get him to match his breaths but Jay flinches away from him as well as Gaby and Casey who are trying to stop the bleeding at his shoulder and abdomen.

“You guys, wait, get back…give me a sec.” Everyone steps back, giving Will room to work.

“Jay, I’m here. I need you to breathe.” Will puts a hand on each side of Jay’s bloody face and turns it to him. “Look at me, brother.” Will breathes deep rhythmic breaths, trying to get Jay to match him. “Breathe with me Jay, I need you to breathe with me.” Jay still doesn’t respond. “Aw shit…” Jay passes out and Gaby moves in, getting an oxygen mask in place as Will orders a sedative to keep him under. Will’s hands are clasped on top of his head as he sits back on his heels, then rests a hand on Jay’s head as Sylvie and Gaby pack his wounds while Casey and Severide work out the best way to deal with the arrow that is pinning Jay’s leg to the pavement.

 

TWO DAYS LATER

We’re all crowded into Jay’s room. He woke up a couple of hours ago and they say he’s going to be okay. His face, arms and what we can see of his torso are littered with cuts from the flying concrete and broken glass. Sterie strips are on the more minor cuts and bandages cover the ones that required stitches. There are bigger bandages on his shoulder and abdomen, covering the bullet wounds and keeping the drains in place from the 7 hour nerve-racking surgery he went through. He’s got a grade 3 concussion and in the next couple of days he’ll have one more surgery on his leg.

He is still pretty out of it and occasionally smiles at something that is said but mainly he just lays there drifting in and out. When he starts to grimace from the pain, one of us helps him push the button that releases another dose of morphine into his arm.

To be honest, I think we’re all acting like idiots, like kids waiting for the clown to show up at the birthday party. But it can’t be helped. We’re all so relieved that he is going to be okay and it’s brought out the stupids in all of us.

 

THE NEXT DAY

We’re all on our way down to Jay’s room, after finally being kicked out the night before. We are being way too loud for a hospital, I have to admit, no matter how much Voight tries to shush us. I chuckle to myself for having the thought of Voight “shushing.” A better phrase would have been, Voight is trying to shut us the hell up. We are at Jay’s room when we are stopped by Dr. Charles who’s just coming out of it.

Dr. Charles is talking to us but my attention is drawn to what’s going on inside the room. Jay is laying on his bed staring at the ceiling and looking somewhat annoyed as Will quietly talks to him. Occasionally he rolls his eyes at whatever Will’s saying. Jay ignores whatever question Will just asked. Instead he lifts a shaking hand to pick at one of the bandages on his face before Will gently grabs it and brings it back down to the bed. My eyes shift back to Dr. Charles when I hear ‘PTSD.’

“Like I said, I’m not so concerned about his physical injuries, it the psychological injuries that concern me.”

“But he was fine when we were here yesterday,” I whine at him. God, I sound like a 5 year old.

“Yesterday he probably was fine. Today he isn’t. That’s the nature of PTSD.”

That shuts me up. I look into Jay’s room. He’s still ignoring Will, eyes closed, taking deep measured breaths, hands still trembling even though they are clasped so tightly together his knuckles are white. Fuck. My heart clenches. You think he’s okay because he’s going to survive his gun shot wounds and you find out there is a whole set of other wounds that aren’t visible and harder to recover from.

Dr. Charles is still talking, “He has a grade three concussion. That alone will be negatively affecting him for the next week to ten days, if not longer. I would suggest one of you at a time visit with him and just look for the cues that will tell you what he might need; quiet, a light conversation, watching a baseball game, etc. He might just want someone to sit with him so he’s not alone but he’s probably not going to tell you any of that, so you’re going to have to be patient and try to figure it out.”

He looks into the room, “Right now, Will is driving him nuts but every time he’s tried to leave, Jay has called him back, indirectly or directly, and then lets Will continue to drive him nuts.”

Dr. Charles continues, looking at me, “Maybe you could relieve Will so he can get something to eat…” He gives me a wink, “I believe you are an expert when it comes to annoying people.”

Everyone laughs at the truth of that statement. I just shrug and head into the room but turn back to the group, “Use what talents ya got, that’s what my Pop’s always says.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a paragraph I cut from the end part of the story when Dr. Charles is talking about PTSD. It was a little darker than where I wanted to go but the information it contains is true and important so I wanted to share it anyway. It’s still from Adam’s POV.
> 
> You know, after the K & R case and Luis got killed, I said something really stupid and Jay ended up reading me the riot act on veterans and what they go through. Everyone in the precinct heard it and we all learned something that day…Jay said injuries don’t always mean a gun shot wound or a concussion or a broken bone. Injuries don’t always mean that the soldier gets patched up, comes home and everything is fine. Sometimes, a lot of times, it means loss of limbs, paralyzed, burned, comas they will never wake up from, head injuries so devastating they live out the rest of their lives with the mental capacity of a 2 year old. PTSD isn’t factored into the “injured” category - broken families, loss of livelihoods, homelessness and 22 suicides a day are the end result of some Veterans with PTSD.


End file.
